


fast-forward > pause for time

by falsettodrop



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Age Difference, Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, First Time, Is It Masturbation If You Time Travel And Fuck Yourself?, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Self-cest, Time Travel, Younger Richie Tozier/Older Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24103840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsettodrop/pseuds/falsettodrop
Summary: Richie didn’t want to wait years to have sex. He wanted itnow.
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Richie Tozier, background Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 54
Kudos: 223
Collections: RCU (Richiecest Cinematic Universe)





	fast-forward > pause for time

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [wanna know that body (like it's mine)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604337) by [liesmyth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmyth/pseuds/liesmyth). 



> This can be read as a follow up (or a mid-story divergence, or an alternate universe) of [liesmyth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmyth/pseuds/liesmyth)'s fic! Essentially, I felt inspired and ended up writing this. S/o to my beta, [Pearl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlshop/pseuds/pearlshop), for the quick and thorough edit. Bless you!
> 
>  **Detailed warnings with spoilers** : unspecified age of teen Richie (late teens, similar to the original fic), extremely enthusiastic consent (in fact, he begs older Richie to do it), Eddie is discussed in a way that is somewhat sexually objectifying, mentions of spit-roasting, mentions of double penetration, multiple orgasms. 
> 
> This is exactly what it's marketed as: double the Trashmouth. I hope those of you who stumble upon it enjoy!

“You’re in way over your head, kid.”

Hearing those words from Rich’s mouth—this older version of himself—gave Richie a pause, but it wasn’t nearly enough to make him stop. He felt tender to the touch, alight with nerves and want as he climbed into Rich’s lap, hissing when their cocks brushed together.

Richie could barely stand to look at the sight. It was obscene: the lurid image of their cocks together, their tips drooling over each other, the sheer difference in size alone. He bit back a moan, knowing he needed to stay focused. Rich would never let him live it down if he lost his wits during this.

“I’m ready,” Richie said, trying to keep his tone as steady as possible. “I need you to fuck me.”

Rich wrapped his hand—so _big_ —around both of their dicks, gripping with calloused fingers. His thumb pressed at the thick heads of them in tandem, swiping through the wetness dripping from them until his whole hand was coated in it. Richie went red watching, skin overheating, because the sight was both disgusting and beautiful; his cock was leaking all over Rich’s, twice as wet, and he knew it was because this was his first time. Because he was younger. It was humiliating, the visual proof of how desperate he was for it.

“You don’t have a clue what you need,” Rich told him. In a smooth movement, Rich jacked them together, twisting his wrist to create a delicious friction. This time, when Richie moaned, he couldn’t hold it back. The whine he made left him embarrassed, and Rich—the sick bastard—clearly enjoyed it, laughing quietly in response.

There were two pressing thoughts at the forefront of Richie’s mind: a fear of being bad at this, and a fear not being able to have this at all. The second was greater, stronger. He knew this was one of those rare chances in life; he’d only ended up here on accident. And according to Rich, who had told him when he’d asked, his real first time had been a half-drunk disaster with someone who he barely knew, barely trusted, and it wouldn’t happen until he was in his mid-20s.

Richie didn’t want to wait years to have sex. He wanted it _now_.

After all, there was no one who he could possibly trust more than himself.

“I know what I want,” Richie replied, sure of this fact. The twitch of amusement on Rich’s mouth made him angrier; it made him want it even more, this determined need to prove to some variation of himself he could actually do it. “You just put four fingers in my ass. I can take your dick, too.”

Rich chuckled, jerking them with a slowness that barely gave him anything at all. “Can you?” he asked, low and throaty, as his hand slid to the base of their cocks, fingers splaying until he was brushing against his sensitive balls. Richie’s toes curled.

He didn’t want to stare, but couldn’t help it; his cock was so fucking big, even bigger than he was now. Thicker. Longer.

He wanted to feel it press inside him: in his mouth, in his ass. He didn’t care that it was his own dick—it was _a_ dick, and that was all that mattered. He felt heady looking at it, their red, swollen cocks aching with the need for more.

“I can take it,” Richie said quietly, on the verge of pleading. It was ridiculous how his eyes stung just looking at it, thinking of Rich turning him away after all this build up. It was practically cruel. He’d already begged so much to get him to agree to this in the first place. Rich couldn’t turn him away now. “Please, _please_ let me have this.” _You know me better than anyone_ , he wanted to say, _you know how much I need it_.

Rich’s eyes softened. His hand left their dicks and went to the nape of Richie’s neck, pulling him in close until they were breathing, hot, against each other’s mouths—and then their lips brushed in a kiss so gentle and sweet that it would be wholesome,if not for their nakedness and the blood rushing through his veins. “Okay, kid,” Rich whispered, and Richie’s insides sank with relief.

“Thank you,” Richie replied, before he kissed him again. Slower, lazier, then wetter when his tongue brushed against Rich’s lips and he opened to let him into his mouth. He never realized how raw it could feel, just kissing someone like this, their lips hot and full against yours. It was quickly becoming his favourite thing.

Richie hadn’t kissed a boy—a _man_ —until mere days ago, and he felt mildly self-conscious about his skills. But he could feel Rich’s cock against his, hard and twitching. Richie couldn’t be so bad at it, could he?

He pulled back an inch to ask, with hesitance: “Am I… is this… okay?”

“What d’you mean?” Rich wasn’t wearing his glasses, but Richie could see him trying to focus on his face, as if he’d find his answer there.

Richie reached a hand up to cup Rich’s jaw, letting his thumb drag along the beginnings of stubble. His own facial hair required the occasional shave, too, but it didn’t grow nearly as quick as Rich’s did, his five o’clock shadow making him shiver. “The kissing.”

Rich snorted, then a smirk crept onto his face like he couldn’t hold it back despite his stronger efforts, a hand lifting to straighten Richie’s glasses for him. “Are you asking me to critique my _own_ kissing technique?”

Richie’s face burned, and he fell forward, wanting to bury himself in the crook of Rich’s neck and never come out. “Was just wonderin’,” he mumbled into his skin, but Rich wove a hand in Richie’s curls and pulled him back to look at his face properly. He suppressed a shudder—he had a thing for hair pulling, he was starting to realize—but Rich’s eyes were hazy, unfocused, and his smile was soft with understanding.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Rich said, with a gentleness he’d lacked before. His hand went to Richie’s dick and he fisted him a few times, until Richie was whining deep in his throat again, an instinctive reaction. “You want advice? Do what feels good. Don’t worry so much.”

“That feels good,” Richie admitted between breaths, mouth moving faster than his brain.

To his surprise, Rich seemed less smug about this than he’d expected. He leaned forward to mouth at Richie’s jaw, said into the skin, “I know, baby, you like it so much.”

Richie jerked forward, fucking up into his hand. His brain liquified, going fuzzy solely from the name, turning fluid so quick that all he could respond with was some garbled mishmash of words. Rich’s spare hand trailed down his back, a warm reminder of what was to come, until it slipped over the cleft of his ass to touch his hole, still wet and open and clenching from Rich fingering it earlier.

“Needs to be wetter,” Rich said, almost to himself, voice quiet. “Then I’m gonna put it inside you.”

“ _Hnn_ ,” Richie moaned, which wasn’t even a word, and he moved a hand to grip Rich’s strong thigh, another at his broadened shoulders. He moved quickly, coating his fingers with lube before pushing into him, fitting two inside with ease. “Do we— _oh_ —like it?” he gasped, unbearably curious about how it felt having his cock inside someone else. Rich scissored his fingers, working methodically as he’d already been opened, before he pressed the third inside him once again. Richie panted, the familiar burn making his eyes roll inside his skull before he attempted focusing again. “Y’know, like, doing the—the fucking.”

Rich smiled. “It’s good, but…” His fingers left Richie’s hole, holding him open from the rim, wet and gaping for his cock. And then—fucking hell, Richie could feel it: the fat head of Rich’s dick pressing at his rim. “You’ll see. C’mon, lift up then sink down on me, nice and slow.”

“Okay,” Richie replied, swallowing around the nervous lump in his throat as he did as he was told, thighs trembling through the motion.

“Slow,” Rich reminded him, before they locked eyes. It steadied him in the moment, and Richie’s breath caught in his throat before he pushed down, harder, feeling the tip sink inside him, wet and easy. He gasped, and Rich’s eyes lit up, going dark and alert as Richie sank deeper. “Yeah, that’s it, keep going.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Richie whimpered, knees wobbling as he bore down and another inch pushed into him. He could fucking _feel_ it, his cock moving inside, dragging along his walls. Again, he applied force, and it pressed even deeper, a few more inches sliding into him.“I’m—you—”

“Shh,” Rich soothed, and his hand was still _there_ , touching his rim as his hole stretched wider to accommodate his cock. He could feel the lube dripping out of him, every minuscule clench.

Richie’s heart stuttered in his chest, and his knees gave out a little from the thought, forcing more of the cock inside him. “Fuck,” Richie cried, mouth falling open. “It’s—it’s so big.”

“Just a little more.” Rich’s hand pulled at Richie’s cock, slick sounds echoing through the room as he jerked him in rhythmic motions. “You’re doing so well, almost there.”

Richie pulled himself off a bit until he was ready, then dropped down to completion, whining high when he felt Rich’s balls beneath his ass. He did it; he’d taken an entire dick inside him.

His hands were shaking.

“Talk to me, Richie,” Rich said, gentle, which probably felt a little odd for him to say aloud, but it did help Richie come back to himself. “Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s good,” he realized, buzzing with it, “it’s so— _God_ , it feels like—”

Rich’s mouth went to Richie’s ear, like he was sharing a secret, despite them being the only two people in the room. “Like you’re being split open?” he husked, low and knowing.

Richie clenched tight around his cock, and he could feel his dick drooling between them. “I hate when you do that.”

“You don’t hate it at all,” Rich replied, tone so smug that it made Richie want to smack him. “C’mon, baby, I can feel it. You _like_ it.”

“Shut up,” Richie gasped, and then Rich pulled out a bit, fucking into him harder, as if he was proving a point. “Shut the— _fuck_ up.”

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart,” Rich said, voice sweet as honey, which was somehow even _worse_ than when he called him baby. It made Richie want to melt into a pathetic little puddle, and the worst part of it all was how Rich goddamn knew it; he could tell from his bodily reactions, and more than that, he knew his most intimate fucking secrets. There were no secrets in this bedroom, between the two of them—only truths.

He lifted up a little, sinking down again and groaning at how it felt. “How does it feel for you?” Richie asked instead, yearning to be told it was good.“To be inside me?”

Rich laughed breathily, fucking him deeper. “A hole is a hole.”

“Christ,” Richie muttered, somehow surprised at himself, but his dick spurted pre-come anyway, because it might’ve been a hole, but it was still his hole.

“I’m joking, kid.” Rich grunted, and Richie could feel his thighs trembling under him, the only sign that he was enjoying this. He wasn’t even making real noises—at least not the full, guttural sounds that Richie was making. “God, you’re so—it’s good, okay?” He thrusted deeper, and Richie whined again, higher, thinking: _more, give me more_. “It feels weird saying it.”

“I get it,” Richie said, and he _did_ , but every inch of him still felt forlorn, aching for praise.

Between thrusts and gasps, Rich sighed, as if he knew. “You really want me to tell you how it feels?”

“Please,” Richie said on automatic, voice spread paper thin, “yes, tell me—”

“Feels wet,” Rich told him, as he fucked into him. “You’re all tight and warm. Mm, and you sound… really good, okay?” And what made it worse, _better_ , was that he could tell Rich was being sincere, that he was being honest, because he sounded almost ashamed to admit this. “You’re being so, so good for me—”

“ _Oh_ —” Richie cried, fucking down on him, and it was so good that it got shocked out of him, his orgasm. It felt so different from his other orgasms, the ones he had before this; it was almost like he had been pushed off a cliff and he was flying through the night sky, falling, falling, falling. “God, _ffffuck_ , I’m—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Rich muttered in awe, and Richie shut his eyes in shame, knowing it had been over much too fast.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it—” Richie babbled, eyes opening and looking down. His dick was so… he was impossibly wet from it, from coming, and it had gotten all over both of their stomachs. They looked fucking filthy, and he wanted to stare at it forever.

“Is it,” Rich began, voice strained, “too much? I can pull out?”

“No!” Richie said, much too loud, with immediacy, and phantom panic. “No, please, I can… I can go again.”

And it was the truth. His dick was already thickening, and it had barely been thirty seconds. He felt frantic for it, utterly insatiable; he fucking _needed_ it.

“Please,” Richie repeated, kept repeating, “please, please, I want another—”

“Alright, Oliver Twist,” Rich muttered, which made Rich even more furious and horny. Furiously horny. He was cracking fucking _jokes_?

“I need you to fuck me,” Richie snapped, shaking. He wasn’t sure if it was from being pissed off, or if he was simply overwhelmed, being stretched around a cock despite already coming. “I asked nicely. Can you just do that?”

Rich bit back a smile. “Never realized I used to be such a brat.”

Richie seethed, shaking harder. “I am _not_ a—”

“You are,” Rich said, sounding very sure of himself. He grinded upwards, and Richie’s insides shuddered like Rich was lighting a fire within him, burning him from the inside out. “But I’ll make it better.”

“You’ll make—” he started, before he was cut off with a kiss. Rich kissed him, and he felt easy for it, melting like hot butter, the anger draining out of him with every press of his mouth and flick of his tongue.

“I know what you need, now,” Rich whispered, between kisses, his tongue licking at the molars of Richie’s teeth, and he didn’t even know he could like that, but he did. “I know _exactly_ what you want.”

All it had taken was a few kisses and Richie was putty in his hands again. “Please,” Richie begged, squeezing around Rich’s cock.

Rich responded with a thrust so hard that Richie could feel it in his throat. “You want a cock in your mouth, too, don’t you?” Rich said and Richie could feel himself dripping as the words left his mouth, spurting pre-come everywhere in a show of: yes, _yes_ , he fucking wanted it. “What if Eddie was here, hm?”

Oh, God, _Eddie_. Rich knew his fucking weakness, and he was using it. “Fuck,” Richie sobbed as Rich fucked up into him, oversensitive and needy.

“Yeah,” Rich replied, confident in his response. He forced inside him, deeper, trailing his hand lower to graze at where his cock was splitting Richie in half. “I knew you’d love that. What would you want him to do?”

“I don’t—” Richie gasped, breath shocked out of him.

“You’d want him to fuck your mouth,” Rich said, with annoyingly self-assured confidence, between deep plunges. “You like this, being split open.” A hand went to Richie’s mouth, thumb playing at Richie’s lips until he parted his lips under the pressure. “You need something in here, too.”

“God,” Richie moaned, mouth dropping open with want, wet with spit.

Rich took the opportunity to slide his thumb into Richie’s mouth. “Suck.”

Richie did, tongue laving at the salt-slick skin, wrapping his lips around it, wishing it was bigger—wishing it was Eddie’s dick, that he was here and fucking him, too.

“Yeah, just like that,” Rich breathed, eyes molten as he watched him suck. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Richie’s eyes fluttered, and he moaned his agreement without thinking.

“Fuck, imagine if Eddie was here,” Rich said, throatily. “I’d get him to fuck your mouth, nice and hard.”

Richie groaned, loud and obscene and garbled around Rich’s fingers.

“He’d feed you his cock,” Rich continued, staring at Richie’s mouth with dark eyes as he fucked up into him, deeper, harder. “Fuck your throat, nice and tight, make you gag on it.”

Richie could take a dick. He could even take Rich’s teasing. But for some reason, this was what made him want to cry.

“It’s what you want the most, isn’t it?” Rich asked, but this time he sounded quiet and pensive. Richie’s dick was at full-mast again, and it throbbed between them, so swollen that every time they moved, he shuddered.

 _No_ , Richie wanted to reply, _no, it’s not what I want, stop saying these things._ But he couldn’t, because it would be a lie, and Rich knew it—that was the sole problem of having sex with yourself: they knew your utmost, deepest desires, the parts you never dared to voice aloud because it veered on being too much. And Rich _knew_ ; he understood what Richie wanted, at his core. That, more than anything, made him feel exposed, so much that he wished he could hide.

“I know it’s what you want,” Rich said, not waiting for Richie’s affirmation. “You don’t have to tell me. You want to be filled.”

Richie’s eyes glazed over, going glassy with unshed tears. “Fuck— _please_ —”

“You want two dicks inside you,” Rich continued, merciless, not even sounding amused anymore but rather ruthless with his method of killing Richie dead. “Filling you from both ends at the same time, in your mouth, in your ass, or maybe—”

 _Don’t say it_ , Richie thought, his pale skin blooming into a deep red, goosebumps rising to the surface.

“What if we—” Rich said, as the tip of his finger pressed in beside his dick, his hole gaping and soaked and filled. Light pressure, the promise of an overwhelming _more_. “If we—got the two of us in here.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Richie gasped. Eyes rolled back in his head, thinking of being ripped in half, just to be stuffed full of cock. “I—I’d die, I couldn’t—”

Rich laughed at that, like he was genuinely amused by the dramatics. “Die for real, or from how good it was?”

Richie didn’t know. All he knew was that he would certifiably fucking _die_.

“Would it be enough for you, then?” Rich carried on. He leaned down to lick a stripe up Richie’s neck, the place where he liked feeling a tongue the most. “So fucking greedy.” Richie burned with humiliation; it was so, so good, Rich’s words. He was driving him crazy. “Always want something fucking you, desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m—I’m not—”

“You can’t fool me, baby,” Rich said, fucking him harder, like he was punishing him for lying. A moan punched out from Richie’s throat, like Rich was dragging them out with his bare hands, again and again. “I _am_ you. I know who you are.”

“Fuck you,” Richie replied, strongly, somehow more turned on than ever by this back-and-forth. Rich circled his hips until he hit it, Richie felt it, his cock lodged up against his prostate. After one orgasm, it almost felt like too much. As if his body was overheating and dissolving beneath him and they were becoming one.

“You’d like that next, wouldn’t you?” he said, sliding out, then back home. “Fucking that dick into a nice—” Rich grunted, before fucking him harder, “tight—hole?”

“Fuck,” Richie moaned. “You fucking—you’re so fucking—” _terrible, such a fucking asshole, so fucking horrible and wonderful and you know every fucking part of me and that makes me want to scream, it makes me want to strangle you and kiss you so you finally shut the fuck up and_ —

The sounds. He could hear them echoing, pounding through his ears, he could fucking _hear_ it: the wet, indecent squelch of his hole being filled, over and over and over again until Rich was telling him _he_ was coming, he was coming, he was coming inside of him and then it felt wetter, and it was dripping out of him, wet and disgusting and so utterly hot and he was—

Coming, too.

He came, and felt it in his toes. Shivering, shuddering, going ice cold and then burning hot in a sharp switch, sweltering over his skin. He had come before, hundreds of times, but this was different. It was _embarrassing_ and revealing, the sounds he was making, the high whines and the whimpers. He sounded wrecked, like he’d been trapped under a tidal wave and was only now floating to the surface, gasping for air.

The room went quiet, but he could still feel Rich there, inside him, softening. Richie trembled in Rich’s arms and realized: he was trembling, too.

All that could be heard was their respective panting, until Rich said, “Brings an entirely new meaning to go fuck yourself, huh?”

Even after sex, he still couldn’t shut the fuck up.

Richie duly reminded himself to apologize to the Losers for his, well, _everything_ , and shut himself up the best way he knew how—with a searing kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment moderation is turned on. Do not try me. I have none of the grace that liesmyth possesses, and can promise that I _will_ laugh my ass off at dramatic comments, then proceed to delete any bullshit that is sent my way. Some of you are really keen on embarrassing yourselves. This was appropriately tagged all the way through, and if it's something you aren't into and you didn't initially blackclick, I don't know what you were expecting. 
> 
> Anyway, feedback is always appreciated! 
> 
> \+ **me, elsewhere** :  
> twitter: [falsettowrites](http://falsettodrop.tumblr.com) | tumblr: [falsettodrop](http://falsettodrop.tumblr.com), [viewsfromthestyx](http://viewsfromthestyx.tumblr.com).


End file.
